


Sympathy for the Devil

by SilentSound715



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amara is scary, Angry Sam Winchester, Evil Amara, Hurt Lucifer, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Panic Attacks, Sympathetic Sam Winchester, Torture, Tortured Lucifer, Wings, scared lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23495968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentSound715/pseuds/SilentSound715
Summary: Lucifer's time with the Darkness did not treat him well. In fact, it has left him broken at the front door of Sam, Dean, and Castiel. Warnings inside. Canon up to 11x20 then major divergence. One shot for now, may continue later, also up for adoption (see inside for details)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 42





	Sympathy for the Devil

**Author's Note:**

> This is canon up through 11x20
> 
> Warnings: references to non-con (not descriptive), fairly graphic torture. 
> 
> I edited this myself so I apologize for any mistakes. 
> 
> All my stories are up for adoption so if you’d like to take this story somewhere, PM me and let me know. I have lots of plot bunnies but rarely the patience to write long stories. I’m more than happy to let you take my idea somewhere if you’d like. 
> 
> I may or may not continue this story myself. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also posted to Fanfiction under same author name. No other unauthorized reproductions allowed.

A groan escaped Lucifer as he forced open his eyes. Blinking rapidly to clear them, he strained his vision to see through the darkness surrounding him. A lone torch at his back illuminated the gloom. His arms were suspended out at his sides, chained between two posts driven into the ground. His legs were shackled together by a short chain that connected to restraints around his ankles. A metal collar dug in around his neck; cruel spines covered the inside, digging into his flesh every time he twisted his head. Or when the leash attached to it was pulled.

No longer did he reside in Castiel’s body. The Darkness herself had ripped him from the vessel and had crafted him one from his original vessel, Nick. The body was much like Castiel’s; it no longer harbored a soul but was strong enough to contain even an archangels’ grace. He wasn’t sure how she’d known about Nick, but his new, permanent vessel suited her needs just fine. She had bound his grace tightly with the body, made it almost as if it were his true body. He could feel everything as vividly as if she had been doing these things to his angelic form. 

A black sigil was burned into the flesh above his heart. This was where the Darkness had sealed his power, much like the Mark of Cain had sealed her away. He wore only a cloth tied loosely around his waist; it barely went to his mid thigh and was ripped and dirty. Besides the dried blood, various other substances covered his body - burns, dirt, and other unsavory things he didn’t want to remember. It was obvious that Lucifer was starving, every rib could be seen. The Darkness had told him his new body needed sustenance, but that he would only be getting enough to barely survive. He didn't deserve more than that for what he’d done to her. 

The room he was in was the same as the last time he’d opened his eyes; in front of him - a bare, gray concrete wall covered in graffiti. To each side more of the same. Dried blood coated the ground beneath his feet. And he knew if he strained to look behind him, he’d just barely be able to make out a door directly behind his back. Feeling the pain in his neck, he didn’t bother turning to look again. He knew nothing had changed. There was only one reason the door would open, and his whole body trembled when he thought about the times it had opened before.

In a circle around him, attachments for his chains were anchored into the ground. At times, the Darkness left him trussed up as he was. She had better access to his whole body that way; she could whip him or torture his grace and mind until he collapsed, and then keep going because the chains held him up. Other times, she liked him flat on his back. She would step on his chest and press until his bones broke. Sometimes she’d simply chain him by the collar around his neck, asserting her dominance over him as if he was a beaten dog. The irony from his treatment of Crowley was not lost on the fallen angel. But the worst was when she chained him flat on his stomach. 

He pressed his eyelids tightly together and tried to control his now rapid pulse. This vessel she put him in made him feel... more. More fear, more anxiety, more pain. Things he didn’t have a name for, had never experienced as a fully realized archangel, things he hadn’t even felt in the cage. He could feel his grace, but it was barely there. Only the barest hint of grace came through so that he didn’t die from her handiwork.

The door opening startled Lucifer from his thoughts. Soft footsteps approached him from behind, stopping just short of his back. He clenched his jaw and willed his body to stop shaking, trying to show as little weakness as possible to the utterly terrifying woman.

A finger traced his spine. He flinched as she came to the first of his many open marks, a stripe of split flesh from a leather whip located between his shoulder blades. She continued onward, pressing against the wounds on his spine one by one, and each time Lucifer winced. When she reached the base of his spine, she dug her nails into the fresh burn marks marring the skin there. Lucifer gasped loudly as the searing pain hit his senses.

“Still feeling a little tender from our last session, oh favored son?” He could hear the smirk in her voice as she continued to press into the burn. “Or maybe you’re up for another round of fun.” Suddenly, she raked her nails down and across the burn, opening secondary wounds. Lucifer finally screamed.

“That’s better,” Amara said coldly. “Maybe this time he will listen to your screams and finally show himself.”

Reaching around to the archangel’s front, Amara grasped the leather leash dangling from his collar. She pulled it roughly back towards herself, causing the spines to scrap the abused skin of Lucifer’s neck. His howl of pain was cut off as she closed his windpipe, choking him with the collar.

“Or maybe you could beg him for help again? I so enjoy it every time you do.” Lucifer was ashamed to admit it, but that first week Amara had been relentless. He’d held up okay, still snarky and sarcastic despite the pain. But that was before the Darkness had learned of the even darker parts of humanity. The first time, she’d brought three of her infected humans into the room. She had manipulated their desires, bringing out the sins of lust and greed. Lucifer’s heart had nearly stopped when he saw the three mens’ eyes turn toward him, skin covered in dark veins and eyes flashing with dark passion. That was the first time he remembered crying since he was first thrown in the cage. It was the first time since his fall that he’d begged his father for help. There had been many more times after that, always new men and usually in different ways, but the results were always the same. The Darkness left the fallen archangel crumpled on the ground, bleeding and crying, taking a piece of him with her every time she left. 

Since that first day, Amara had broken him down further and further until he was just a shell of his former self. He was still there, but all the Darkness had to do now was raise her hand to get him shaking in fear.

The Darkness released her hold on Lucifer’s leash and held her hands up to the sides of his head. He had only a moment to let out a weak sound of protest before she used her abilities to attack his grace directly. Lucifer lit up under the assault, body and eyes glowing a beautiful ethereal white that was in complete contrast with the tortured screams he let escape his mouth. This went on for some minutes, the Darkness never wavering in her assault.

When his screams became pitiful airy breaths, she gave up her hold on him. Lucifer slumped over in his restraints. Throat raw from screaming, he let out a few throaty coughs, blood coming up with them. Painful panting followed and Lucifer could feel himself slipping out of consciousness again.

“Not yet,” she said as she threw a small blast of power at the fallen archangel’s body. Lucifer yelped and forced his eyes open through the pain to look at Amara, who had come to stand in front of him.

She reached forward and stroked Lucifer’s face gently with her fingertips. She traced the jagged scar that ran from his right temple across his right eye and nose to the left side of his jaw. A memento of one of her first attempts at bringing her brother out of hiding by marking his supposed favored son. To Lucifer’s disgrace, he let out a low whine of fear. Amara grabbed his jaw tightly between her fingers, “relax little angel. We are just going to talk for a moment.”

Lucifer eyed the Darkness warily as she removed her hand and stepped back. She turned and began prowling around his person slowly. Every so often she would reach out and touch one of her marks that she’d laid upon him. And each time Lucifer would inevitably flinch, expecting the worst despite her promise for the moment.

“You’ve been with me more than a month now, and despite my best efforts, God has yet to show himself. I would say that perhaps I’ve been too... easy on you.” As she said this, her hand dug into a particularly deep cut across Lucifer’s left thigh. At his strangled breath she continued. “However, I have another theory now. I’m afraid I’ve underestimated God’s love for you. I fear I was too hasty in my assessment. It seems obvious to me now that not only are you NOT his favored son, you are of so little importance to him that he can’t even be bothered to talk to you, let alone save you.”

Despite his best efforts, Lucifer let out a low whine at her assessment. He had been trying to drown out such thoughts. Because how could his own father, whatever Lucifer may have done, leave his son to such a horrible reality at the hands of the Darkness? Lucifer knew his father had thrown him in the cage, but that was all. It wasn’t as if God had seen fit to torture Lucifer for his crimes as well. But maybe it was his intention. Maybe he was so defiled in God’s eyes now that he deserved what Amara was doing to him. Maybe this was his continued punishment for rebelling those millennia ago as well as for his recent transgressions against his fathers favored creations.

The Darkness stopped behind him. “Let’s have one more go shall we. And if my brother does not appear, I will be done with your worthless existence.”

Eyes opening wide and breaths coming harsh and fast in panic, Lucifer strained against his bonds. His first words since she entered the room falling from his chapped lips, “no no no, please no. I’ll pray to him again. Whatever you want just please not again.”

“Cry for him all you want little angel,” the Darkness said as she approached him. “Let’s begin.”

Lucifer screamed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam and Dean were deep in their research, looking for anything that could help them find Amara. Chuck had hung around for several days and then about a week after Amara had absconded with Lucifer told them he was leaving for a while. He had looked slightly perturbed but had waved off the Winchester’s questions and disappeared.

Castiel had awoken after Amara had ripped Lucifer from his body and followed the Winchester’s back to the bunker. It had taken several days for him to physically recover, and several weeks longer to mentally recover. You don’t just get over having the Devil live inside you for months in a couple of days. He was currently watching Dean work on his computer, a surveillance video from street cameras playing on the screen.

Suddenly, Cas stood up. “What is it?” Asked Dean.

“I feel... something familiar coming this way. I can’t quite figure out what it is, and it’s moving slow. Just outside the bunker.”

“Is it Amara?” Asked Sam from his seat.

“No.”

Suddenly, all the alarm wards around the bunker started going off, alerting the three to a supernatural threat near the bunker.

“Whatever it is, it ain’t human,” Dean shouted over the alarms. “Come on Sammy, Cas. Let’s go greet our guest.”

The three stood and made their way upstairs, Sam and Dean pulling out guns as they went. At the top of the stairs, Dean looked through the peephole in the door leading to the outside. He could make out a shape, moving towards the bunker, but wasn’t able to tell for sure what it was.

“Looks like a person but I can’t tell for sure. Are we ready?”

At the nod from Sam and Castiel, Dean pushed open the door and held his gun out in front of him. Sam quickly followed suit and Castiel stepped in front of both of the hunters, ready to defend them. All three were shocked to see the Devil himself, in Nick’s body, standing about a hundred feet from them. 

“You son of a bitch!” Dean yelled and lunged forward, dropping his gun and pulling his angel blade from the waistband of his jeans. He ran at the Devil and swiped the blade, aiming for the throat. Lucifer dropped to his knees unexpectedly, dodging Dean’s blade. But the hunter’s momentum carried him forward and he tripped over Lucifer’s head, his years of training the only thing stopping him from stabbing himself with the angel blade. With Dean in a heap behind the Devil, Sam and Castiel charged forward. Castiel’s speed allowed him to reach Lucifer first but as he reached for the Devil, he hesitated when he saw Lucifer bend at the waist, his left arm pulled up to his chest and the right bracing himself on the ground. As Sam got close and pulled his own angel blade, Castiel observed the most peculiar thing. Lucifer had looked at Sam and then bared his neck for the younger hunter. Sam’s blade now pressed tightly against the Devil’s throat and his hand was in the Devil’s ragged hair, pulling his head farther back. That’s when it struck Castiel - his ragged hair. Not the smooth shaggy blonde locks Castiel was used to seeing, but ragged, dirty, too-long hair. At that moment, his rage cleared and his vision expanded to really see the Devil for the first time. He went to grasp Sam’s wrist to still his movement, but Sam had noticed the same thing and had frozen in place. 

Dean grunted as he righted himself, looking between his brother, Castiel, and the Devil. As his eyes rested on the Devil, he finally noticed the thing they’d all missed upon first seeing the fallen archangel outside their front door - his wings. Sam and Dean gaped at the sight of Lucifer’s wings, while Castiel tried to meet Lucifer’s eyes, who was looking to the side. 

Up close, they could see that Lucifer’s wings were visible. All six of his huge white wings were on full display, however the beauty that should have been an archangel’s wings was tainted by the metal bindings across them. While the brothers didn’t know much about angel wings, they could clearly see that his main right one was out of its socket; the left was twisted at an odd angle and obviously broken. The individual wings themselves were bound together by what looked like barbed wire, holding each wing so that they couldn’t be extended and used for anything. Patches of missing feathers were obvious and blood was slowly dripping from several locations.

On his hand and knees, throat bared for his true vessel, Lucifer closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for Sam’s finishing blow. After a few moments, he felt the hand holding his head loosen, but not relinquish, its grip, allowing his neck to come forward to a more comfortable angle. The angel blade pulled back just enough so that it wasn’t digging into the soft flesh at his neck. The fallen archangel started panting and opened his eyes slightly, eyeing Sam warily through the fringe of his hair. 

“What the hell?” Sam was trembling slightly as he let his eye wander over the Devil. His wrists had restraints locked around them, with broken chains dangling off of each. His legs were shackled together with a two-foot long chain and they could see a metal collar with a leather leash hanging down his front around his neck. Several long, deep slashes in his skin were visible along his upper back, arms and legs. Dark bruises littered his body. He wore a dirty strip of fabric around his waist, tied in place by what looked like twine. Most of their view, however, was blocked by Lucifer’s wings. His left arm was braced against his chest, and Sam could see from his angle that the arm was dislocated at the shoulder. Sam let go of Lucifer’s hair and pulled back farther, standing upright in front of the fallen archangel. 

At that moment, Dean kicked forward, knocking the Devil onto his stomach. He pressed his boot between Lucifer’s wings and leaned over him hard. “Start talking. What happened? Why the hell are you here?”

Upon landing on his arm, Lucifer yelped, actually yelped, and started trembling under the elder Winchester’s foot. He pressed his forehead into the dirt. “I…I was dumped no…not far from he…here *cough* by Amara. I could fe…feel S…Sam in this direction so I st…started walking this way.” As he finished, he coughed more violently and the three standing above the Devil saw flecks of blood come up. 

Dean loosened his hold but kept the foot in place. “What do you mean you could ‘feel Sam’?”

Hesitating, Lucifer finally said, “he’s m…my true vessel. He was close and I could sense him…”

“Cas, what can you tell us?” Dean asked after staring at the Devil for a moment. 

Castiel crouched down near Lucifer’s head, who had turned it slightly and was staring at Sam, his eyes darting to Castiel’s for a moment before returning to look at the ground. Castiel placed his hand on Lucifer’s back and closed his eyes. After a few moments, he said, “turn him over.”

Dean lifted his foot and Sam rolled the Devil over with his own foot, pressing into the bad shoulder with little care and flipping the devil to his side. Lucifer wheezed in pain but made no comment, only twisted his head to press it further into the dirt and pressed his left arm back against his chest. Castiel could see his arm half covering something on his chest and he reached forward to tug Lucifer’s arm down to get a better look. On his chest, over his heart, Castiel saw an unfamiliar sigil burned into the Devil’s flesh. He put his hand over it and could feel behind the seal all of the Devil’s grace and power, locked firmly away. Only the barest hint came through, and he supposed this was why he had not recognized the Devil from inside the bunker; the fallen archangel's presence was barely detectable through the seal. “His powers are sealed by this sigil. I’ve never seen anything like it. I suppose Amara must have bound his power. As far as I can tell, for all intents and purposes, he’s human.” 

Castiel gripped Lucifer’s hair and pulled it so that the archangel was forced to look at him. He pulled his angel blade up to Lucifer’s neck, above the collar and pressed it there, applying just enough pressure that it split the skin. Castiel drew in a breath and said, “normally, when an angel is cut by an angel blade, the grace flares up and bleeds through, but I see no such evidence here. His grace is almost completely locked away.” Castiel released his hold and stood back up.

The boys had fought enough angels to know that what Castiel said was true. While the new wound on his neck was dripping blood, no grace had come through on the initial cut. Normally, the wound would have healed by now too but judging by the state of the rest of his body, he wasn't able to heal anything at the moment. 

Sam spoke up, voice hard, “so what do we do with him? This could be our chance to kill him.” Sam was vibrating with thinly concealed stress and anger. Memories of his time in the cage were coming to the forefront of his mind. This usually happened while he was around the Devil, though most of the time they were so busy fighting for their lives that he rarely had time to dwell on the memories. But now, with the Devil prone at their feet and obviously weak, he couldn’t help but feel like now was his chance to take revenge. “Or maybe we can throw his miserable soul back in the cage.”

At those words, Lucifer struggled to get his hand under himself and pushed himself to his knees. He leaned forward shakily and bowed his head. “Sam, I deserve no mer… mercy from you, any of you. But p… please, please just kill me. Please don't send me ba… back. I can’t go back, not again. I would rather die.”

Sam was about to reply when he noticed water hitting the ground in front of the Devil. Lucifer was crying. In a million years, Sam never would have thought that Lucifer, the Devil, the Dark Prince, fallen archangel, would be crying at his feet, begging to not be sent back to his prison.

Sam clenched his jaw and looked to Castiel and Dean. Both were stunned into silence and gapping openly at Lucifer and Sam. Clearing his throat, Sam said, “I suppose Chuck may need him. He did say that Michael was out of commission and that it would take too long to resurrect Gabriel and Raphael. Maybe we should bring him to the bunker and keep him there?”

“Chuck…?” Lucifer whispered, mostly to himself. Hearing him, Sam said, “yeah, your dad was here a few weeks ago. He said he had some things to do and took off for a while.”

Lucifer clenched his jaw and screwed his eyes closed. His fists clenched tightly, turning the knuckles white.

Castiel looked down at the fallen archangel and said, “I think it would be best to keep an eye on him at the bunker for the moment. I do not know when God will return but it is best to have him hidden away if Amara decides she has use of an archangel.”

Both hunters nodded and Castiel and Sam reached down to drag Lucifer to his feet. As Sam and Castiel each grabbed an arm to lift the Devil into a sitting position, Lucifer started protesting weakly. Sam began to tug a little harder to set him upright but when he pulled up, Lucifer gasped loudly and let out a soft moan of pain. Remembering that Lucifer’s shoulder was out of its socket he said, “hold on Cas, we can’t move him like this.”

Castiel and Sam released Lucifer’s arms and he rested back on the ground, still panting and eyeing Sam warily. 

Sam roughly shifted a wing to get a better look at the state of Lucifer’s torso, ignoring the flinch touching a wing elicited. Noticing deep bruising along his ribs, Sam said, “I think his ribs are broken. Between his shoulder, wings, and ribs I’m not sure how to lift him. I think we may need to set the shoulder here so we can walk him inside. Otherwise the only thing we can do is drag him. Not that I’m opposed but it’ll take too long. Dean come help.”

Grunting in annoyance, Dean came closer and said, “alright Cas, you and I will hold him down, Sammy will fix the shoulder. And let’s make it fast, we’re sitting ducks out here and I don’t have all day.”

Nodding, Castiel moved further down Lucifer’s left side and Dean moved to the right. Sam stayed by Lucifer’s head and said, “Lay on your stomach and relax, I can’t pop it back if you’re tense.”

Sam could see a dull resignation come over the Devil and he shifted slowly to lay flat on his stomach. He tensed up as Castiel and Dean put their hands on him to hold him down and to give Sam enough leverage to pop the arm back. “Oh one second.” Sam stood up and started to remove his belt. As soon as he did that, Lucifer sucked in a breath and tried to throw Castiel and Dean off of him; he tried to twist out of their grips, but between the pain in his broken body, and their firm grip on his person, he didn’t move more than several inches. Panic lit up his face and he started struggling harder, only succeeding in pulling at his open wounds and broken bones.

“Stop fighting! I just want you to have something to bite.” Sam had crouched and grabbed the Devil’s head again. As Lucifer collapsed in an exhausted heap, Sam loosened his grip on Lucifer’s hair.

By this time, Dean was pissed and roughly grabbed hold of the Devil once again. “Quit your squirming or I’m just going to drag you into the bunker as is,” he hissed. Lucifer’s eyes darted to Dean. He clenched his jaw and made a visible effort to relax.

Sam folded his belt and offered it to Lucifer. The Devil took it between his lips and bit down on the leather and nodded once at Sam.

Sam slowly lifted the archangels arm. Placing one hand on the shoulder blade, he shifted Lucifer’s arm, getting a feel for what angle he needed to pull it in to set the shoulder. “Okay, on three. One...” and at that moment Sam pulled and Castiel and Dean pressed into the Devil. With a loud ‘click’ followed by a shout from Lucifer, the shoulder was back in place.

Castiel and Dean both released him and sat up. Sam went to take the belt from Lucifer and noticed the deep teeth marks marring the leather. Without a word, he put the belt back on, giving Lucifer a moment to rest. Sweat had broken out on the archangel’s forehead and he was trembling slightly.

“Okay let’s try this again,” Sam said and moved to replace Dean on Lucifer’s right side. With a lot of effort and help, the Devil managed to sit upright, and eventually into a pseudo-standing position. The effort left him shaking and covered in a thin sheen of sweat and hanging onto the two people at his side. The four moved towards the bunker at a slow, lumbering pace. Lucifer could hardly stand, and how he had made it down the road to the bunker, no one was sure. 

Dean had gone ahead into the bunker to turn off the alarms and reappeared at the open door just as the other three made it to the entrance. Lucifer hesitated at the threshold; he looked over his shoulder and wondered if he’d see the outside world again. Being inside had always felt claustrophobic to him. Sam grunted at him, “move. Now.”

Ducking his head to look at the ground once more, Lucifer shuffled forward. The stairs from the entrance to the main room were challenging, to say the least. Twice Castiel and Sam almost lost their grip on the fallen archangel, but were able to stabilize themselves. The whole process was painful and unpleasant for Lucifer, who was shaking and sweating more profusely. At the bottom of the stairs, Lucifer was unceremoniously dumped onto the ground, his wings not allowing him to sit properly in a chair. He sat with his legs bent in front of him, his back hunched over and hands resting in his lap. He seemed to curl in on himself as much as possible.

With a sigh, Dean said, “great, now what?”

Castiel spoke up, “while he does not have any of his powers, I would still recommend putting him in angel binding restraints. These on him now are simply iron. Amara has enough power that if he had tried to escape, she could have easily stopped him in this state. But I do not know how long this seal will last.”

“So down to the basement and we’ll dig out the angel restraints we used for you while you were wigging out,” Dean commented.

During this time Sam had remained silent, quietly observing the fallen archangel panting on the ground. While they’d fixed his shoulder, he was still holding his arm against his chest. Sam crouched next to Lucifer and without touching him, started taking inventory of his wounds. Long slash marks covered his whole back, probably from a whip he thought. Several severe burns licked up the backs of his arms and down his sides. Deep purple bruising was present between the lashes and burns, most noticeably on the archangel’s hips and thighs. Most of these were fresh, but Sam could see older yellowing marks scattered across Lucifer’s torso.

Reaching forward, Sam took hold of Lucifer’s wrist. To his surprise, the Devil barely acknowledged the hunter beyond a small flinch but willingly gave his arm to Sam. The hunter observed the metal restraints around Lucifer’s wrist; like Castiel had said, they seemed to be simple iron. They fit snuggly around his wrist, from the base of the hand, higher than typical restraints up to his mid forearm. Several links were welded into the metal, acting as attachments for chains. About 2 feet of chain was attached at the lowest link close to the wrist on both arms. Dropping the hand, Sam turned his attention to the ankle restraints. They were very similar to the wrist restraints and extended from the ankle to the mid calf. A chain was attached between the two ankle restraints, limiting his movement and a part of the reason it had been so difficult to get the archangel down the stairs. Blood was slowly dripping from each restraint, the skin rubbed raw under them. Sam finally looked at the collar around Lucifer’s neck. A leather leash ran from the front on it down to the archangel’s stomach. The hunter reached for it and suddenly Lucifer threw himself sideways away from Sam’s hand. A low growl reverberated around the room and the hunters and the angel looked in shock at the sudden change in demeanor.

The Devil was crouched now about 5 feet from Sam. His right hand was braced on the floor and he was looking between Sam and the two others in the room. Sam narrowed his eyes and began to stand up, causing the Devil to growl louder. Quickly, before Castiel or Dean could stop him, Sam darted forward and tackled Lucifer over. A brief struggle ended when Sam pinned Lucifer on his stomach and dug his right knee into his shoulder blades between his wings and grabbed the Devil’s hair with his left hand, pushing him down. The right hand reached down and took hold of the leather leash and the pulled it tightly back, effectively choking off the Devil’s growl. A strangled gasp left Lucifer and he froze under the younger hunter’s weight and display of dominance.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam leaned over and whispered harshly to the fallen archangel under him. He yanked the leash harder and pulled his hand back, forcing Lucifer’s neck back to look at him. It was then Sam noticed the glazed look that had come over Lucifer’s eyes. Tears leaked slowly down the sides of his face and the remains of panic were leaving his eyes, in its place a dull resignation. Startled by the unexpected reaction, Sam released the hair and leash. He noticed more blood pooling around the Archangels neck and touched the collar. He pushed a finger underneath and pulled back in surprise when his finger was cut on something. Looking closer, Sam saw terrible spines covering the inside of the collar, digging into the tender flesh of Lucifer’s neck. Sam got off Lucifer’s back and stumbled to his feet, staring wide eyed at his brother and Castiel. Lucifer took the opportunity to curl on his side and cover his head with his arms.

Hesitating for a moment, Sam looked between the archangel and Dean and Castiel, “the collar has spines on the inside... I think I may have panicked him when I tried to mess with it...”

Nodding dumbly, Dean cleared his throat and said, “um, well, I guess let’s see what we can do to get those off. We need to anyway to replace them with the angel restraints.”

Castiel has been staring at Lucifer and walked over to his prone form when Dean finished. He leaned down and whispered to him, gently taking Lucifer’s arm and pulling him upright. The Devil was shaking like a leaf and leaned heavily on the angel. Lucifer eyed the two hunters warily and settled his eyes on Sam. To the hunter’s disbelief, a quiet “I’m sorry” came out of the Devil’s mouth.

Castiel broke the tension in the room by saying, “do you have something to help get these off?”

Dean said, “uh, ya, I think so. In the garage. I’ll be right back.” With a backward glance he stepped out of the room.

“I’ll go get the angel restraints. We can put them on as we take the iron ones off... and the medical kit.” Sam said and then exited the room as well.

Castiel and the archangel were left in the room alone. Tugging on Lucifer’s arm, Castiel pulled him towards a couch on the far side of the room. He looked around and saw an old throw blanket over one of the other chairs. He took it and laid it out over the couch then gestured for Lucifer to sit and after a moments hesitation, he did, turning sideways so his wings wouldn’t brush the back of the couch.  
Castiel tilted his head and tried to meet Lucifer’s eyes, but the archangel was staring at his hands. “Brother...” Castiel tried the word on his tongue. Lucifer snapped his head up and stared wide eyed at Castiel. He continued, “what happened?”

Lucifer stared at Castiel for another moment then returned his gaze to his hands. “She thought that as God’s supposedly favored son, if she tortured me he would come. He didn’t and she got bored and frustrated.” He trailed off and shifted uncomfortably.

Castiel nodded slowly, “and what about your wings? How was she able to manifest them here?”

At the mention of his wings, Lucifer shuddered. They were currently hanging uselessly from his back, still contorted and bleeding. “I don’t know. It was one of the last things she did. Something with the seal but I don’t know.” As he finished speaking, he touched the burn over his heart. “Castiel, my wings, you know how sensitive they are. They hurt. So, so much. Please...”

Nodding again, Castiel walked closer and sat behind Lucifer. The archangel tensed up but didn’t move. As Castiel touched the base of his wings, Lucifer clenched his jaw and forced himself to relax as much as possible. Careful hands felt around where the wings attached to asses the damage. After a few moments, Castiel opened his mouth to speak but at that moment Dean and Sam walked back in. A cold sweat had broken out over Lucifer’s skin during Castiel’s examination, and as the hunters walked back into the room he started trembling and clenched his fists against his legs. His breathing picked up, almost hyperventilating.

“Cas, what happened?” Dean asked. He was holding bolt cutters.

For some odd reason, Sam’s heart clenched seeing the fallen archangel in such a state. As he had been getting supplies, his mind kept flashing back to his torture in the cage. Sam felt very conflicted. He was nervous that the Devil was in his home but almost relieved that they now knew where he was. Sam also thought he’d be angrier. He had been at first but the longer they interacted with the Devil, the more sympathy he felt. And the longer he thought about his time in the cage, the foggier it got. Almost like there was a veil over his memories. Not understanding, Sam had shaken his head as he finished packing the angel restraints, vanishing the confusing thoughts for the moment. As he’d headed back to the main room he remembered Lucifer’s state of undress and at the last minute had stopped by his room to grab some basic clothing. Now he was back in the main room with a panicking Devil and I distraught angel.

Sam stepped forward holding the medical kit. The restraints were in a box under his arm and the clothing was slung over his shoulder. He set everything down next to Castiel, who was still seated behind Lucifer. Sam walked around to stand in front of the archangel. He gripped the hair at the back of Lucifer’s head firmly, but not unkindly, and forced Lucifer to look at him. “Stop. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Swallowing, Lucifer averted his eyes and managed to say, “my... wings. I ha...hate having them tou... touched. B... but it hurts... and I don’t... don’t want…” He glanced to the side at the restraints Sam had brought in.

Sam released Lucifer and crouched in front of him. He pulled his fingers to the archangel’s chin and guided him to meet his eyes. Sam stared at Lucifer long and hard, long enough Lucifer started squirming in his seat. He had stopped trembling and his breathing was evening out, though still labored. Sam finally nodded and said, “as long as you don’t cause problems, you have my word we will patch you up and treat you fair. Some of this is going to hurt but we’ll never get through it if you keep panicking.”

Lucifer nodded shakily and Sam let go and turned to Dean and Castiel. Both were staring at him like he’d gone crazy but chose to remain quiet for the moment.

“Let’s start with the restraints on his arms and legs first. Dean do you have the lock picking set?” Nodding, Dean brought the bolt cutters over and set them near the restraints, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the set. He handed it to Sammy and sat back.

“Cas, grab that medical box. I’ll need antiseptic and gauze pads. And some wraps.” As Castiel got to work sorting out the supplies, Sam held out his hand to Lucifer and motioned for his arm.

Slowly, Lucifer gave Sam his right hand, turning it over so that the hunter had access to the lock on the underside. Sam got to work quickly and within a few minutes had the restraint off. Lucifer heaved a sigh as the restraint came off, revealing the angry red skin and bleeding scrapes on his arm. Without a word Sam accepted the antiseptic soaked pads from Castiel and dabbed at the wounds. Lucifer jerked back at first but with a steadying hand from Sam, he went still again, merely gritting his teeth at the stinging sensation. When he was done, Sam packed the wounds with clean gauze and wrapped the whole thing. This process continued with the other three limbs.

The tough part came when Sam got to the collar. As soon as he touched it, Lucifer balked and flinched backward into Castiel, who had moved to stand behind the archangel. “So... sorry,” he stammered out. “Reflex,” was all he added. Taking a shaky breath in, he closed his eyes as Sam went to touch it again.

The lock was located at the back of his neck so Sam stood up to get a better look. As he was examining it, he felt Lucifer lean forward and press the crown of his head into Sam’s stomach. Taken aback for a moment, the hunter paused and stared at the archangel. Taking a deep breath, he continued, bringing the tools up to the lock. This one took longer than the rest but it finally popped open and as Sam carefully pulled it out and away, Lucifer sagged in relief. “Thank you...” he whispered.

The contraption looked like a medieval torture device, and judging by the horrible, jagged cuts across Lucifer’s neck, that’s exactly what it had been. As Sam started carefully cleaning the wounds, Lucifer’s hand came up to grip the bottom of Sam’s flannel shirt. Ignoring the odd behavior for a moment, Sam finished by winding gauze and a cotton strip around Lucifer’s neck. He cleared his throat and said, “done with that part. I think for now just the handcuffs will be okay.”

Lucifer had kept his hold on Sam’s shirt and whimpered softly as Sam dislodged his hand and held it out. The handcuffs were simple and much to Lucifer’s relief, a long chain connected the wrists and Sam adjusted the rings around his wrists so they dangled loosely to avoid damaging his arms farther. He would still have a lot of his mobility wearing these, though he could tell that they were powerful. At his full power, they would have done nothing against an archangel, but with his grace sealed by Amara’s sigil, he was essentially human wearing them. There were a variety of other contraptions in the box; Lucifer could see a collar and ankle chains, along with several other pieces he couldn’t quite identify. Lucifer eyed the rest of the items in the box and shied away from it as Sam lifted it. But he simply set the box on the table behind him and turned to back to Lucifer.

For the first time in a while Dean spoke up. “We need to take care of some of those cuts too and clean up the blood.” While Sam has been busy removing the restraints, Dean had filled a few bowls with clean, warm water and had found several old, clean rags. He had also filled a glass with water and, ignoring the incredulous looks from his brother and Castiel, handed it to Lucifer. “Drink that, you look like you could use it.”

Hesitantly, Lucifer took the glass from Dean and sniffed at it. “What? I promise I didn’t poison it or anything.” Dean crossed his arms grumpily.

The archangel flinched slightly and curled in on himself. “I just... this doesn’t smell like anything. The water she gave me always made me feel sick...” Lucifer stared at the water for another moment and then took a tentative sip. Upon realizing the water of clean and clear, he downed it quickly, coughing when he was done.

Surprised, Dean took the glass and refilled it, bringing it back and setting it on the side table next to the couch. “Drink that slowly or you will get sick.”

Dean realized in that moment that the Devil couldn’t do anything. He was weak and injured and would never willingly allow himself to be handled as he had been up to this point, even for a lie. He turned to Sam and Castiel and gave them a meaningful look, “I’m gonna make some grub. Holler if you need me.” And with that the elder hunter stepped out of the room.

Castiel and Sam turned back to Lucifer, who was watching them watching Dean leave the room. As they turned back to him he averted his eyes and returned to staring at the ground. Sighing, Sam brought over the bowl of water and a clean rag. “We need to clean you up, can’t put you in clothes if you’re gonna bleed all over them. Some of these look like they’ll need stitches.”

Castiel looked a little at a loss for what to do as Sam started dabbing at a cut along Lucifer’s shoulder. “Sam, I will be back. Do you require more assistance right now?”

Sam shook his head and remained focused on his task. Castiel focused on Lucifer and leveled him with a hard look. “Brother, should you harm Sam Winchester in anyway, I will finish what The Darkness did not. Have I made myself clear?”

During his short speech, Lucifer had curled more and more into himself and now sat hunched over and trembling under the angel’s gaze. He nodded quickly and close his eyes, pulling his arms up to his chest.

“Good.” And with that, Castiel exited the room.

Sam stared after Castiel for a moment before turning back to Lucifer. The hunter was dumbfounded at the reactions the Devil was showing. He had never expected, had never even imagined Lucifer in such a state. The Devil had always exuded this aura of relaxed calm; that he was in total control and he knew it; that nothing could hurt him. This image Sam had of Lucifer was now completely shattered by the trembling fallen archangel before him. Were it not so pathetic, he would almost think it an elaborate trick, but he knew that the Devil’s pride would never allow him to willingly paint himself in this light. Whatever Amara had done in those weeks she’d had him, had broken his spirit and mind. 

Shaking his head, he simply got back to work, slowly making his way across Lucifer’s body. Several of the wounds needed stitches, so Sam quietly told Lucifer and threaded the suture. The archangel didn’t say or do anything as Sam made his way from one wound to another. Several across his shoulders above the wings, one on his left side, one on his right thigh. Sam noticed blood running down Lucifer’s left calf and he traced the blood up the leg. He told Lucifer to stand when he saw that the blood was coming from higher up and he couldn’t see the wound from Lucifer’s sitting position. He helped the archangel stand and walked him to one of the tables. 

“Lean on the table if you need to, I think this is the last wound and then we can take a look at those wings.” Once the archangel was standing on his own, Sam brought the bowl of water over with a fresh rag. He kneeled down and saw the deep cut across the back of the upper left thigh. Carefully he wiped the blood from the wound and stitched it closed. Sam had been so concentrated on the wound he hadn’t noticed that Lucifer’s breathing had picked up until he was done. Suddenly he realized Lucifer’s was having another panic attack and as he went to stand up he saw it. 

No one had noticed because of the wings but two distinct, deep, purple bruises rested low across the Devil’s hips. Sam sucked in a sharper breath as he realized what they looked like. Handprints. A bad burn also spanned the Devil’s lower back and upon closer inspection, Sam saw dried blood across the inside of Lucifer’s thighs. The hunter tried to swallow, but his throat was dry and he stood up quickly. 

Lucifer flinched at the sudden motion and that threw him over the edge into a full panic attack. He dropped to his knees and let out a choked sob. His breathing was rapid and shallow and a cold sweat had broken out across his body. 

Stunned, Sam did nothing for several seconds. His mind was racing as he put together the pieces. The aversion to being touched, the episode when he’d taken his belt off, all the pieces came together and Sam grabbed the table to steady himself as he realized what had finally broken the Devil. 

Shaking his head to clear it, Sam looked down at the fallen archangel. He had wrapped his arms around himself and screwed his eyes shut, and was letting out choked whimpers and quiet sobs. Sam slowly lowered himself next to Lucifer and hesitantly touched his arm. The archangels head whipped around and he stared at Sam for a moment before he reached out and grabbed the hunter’s shirt. He pulled himself towards Sam and buried his face in the hunter’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, Sam reached his arms around and pulled Lucifer in close.

Sam was extremely confused and conflicted. Here he was, offering THE DEVIL comfort. The same being who had almost destroyed the world several years ago, who had tortured him in the cage, who had stolen Castiel’s vessel and then tricked them. But it didn’t make sense, why would Lucifer feel like he could turn to Sam for comfort? The hunter hadn’t been overly kind, especially not when Lucifer had first appeared. They had always fought, since even before Lucifer was let out of his cage the first time. Sam was even the one who had thrown him back in the cage, the same cage that several hours before the archangel had begged to be killed instead of being sent back to. But despite all of that, Sam couldn’t make himself push the fallen archangel away. He felt a deep ache in his heart but Sam was sure that it could not be what he thought. He had felt this same ache when Jess was killed, and each and every time he had thought his older brother dead. Heartbreak. But that couldn't be right, it made absolutely no sense to Sam. Why would he feel his heart break for the Devil?

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he focused back on the archangel nestled in his chest. Lucifer had calmed down significantly but was tense. Sam felt him swallow and clench his fists before he pulled away. “I… I’m sorry. I don’t know why…” 

He seemed unable, or unwilling to continue the thought. “Don’t uh, don't worry about it…” Sam said awkwardly. “We don't need to talk about it right now, but I would still like to get you cleaned up and then into the pants I brought before we take a look at your wings. Does that sound okay?”

Lucifer shot Sam a grateful glance and then nodded before looking down again. Sam helped Lucifer to his feet and quickly cleaned the rest of the blood from Lucifer’s body. They walked back to the couch together and Sam handed the archangel a clean pair of boxers and some baggy sweats. He needed some help stepping into them and when both were pulled mostly up, Sam cut the thin twine holding the cloth around Lucifer’s waist, tossing it to the side to be discarded later. The exchange was awkward and uncomfortable, but Lucifer seemed relatively at ease around the hunter compared to several minutes ago. 

The archangel heaved a sigh of relief as the pants were secured around his waist. He felt much more comfortable in the baggy sweats, more in control, more like himself. His torso was still exposed but until his wings were handled, there wasn’t a way to put on the shirt Sam had brought. 

Sam sat Lucifer on the couch once more and grabbed the chain cutters from where Dean had left them. He examined the archangel’s wings for a few moments before he said, “Is it alright if I started cutting these wires away? I’ll have to handle your wings quite a bit.”

Lucifer shuddered slightly and said, “yes. They are quite… sensitive to touch but I will be okay. I just want them fixed.”

Sam nodded “I’m going to start cutting away the wire, if anything hurts, let me know.” Lucifer gave an almost imperceptible nod and turned his head to stare at the wall with half lidded eyes.

Sam picked up the cutters and started clipping the wires as gently as he could. The wires were wrapped tightly around each wing. They stretched around and under and between each wing, binding them tightly. All of the wires were barbed too, adding an extra layer of cruelty. It was slow progress and if the small grunts and flinches were anything to go by, a wholly unpleasant experience for the Devil. After almost an hour, all six wings were free. The top two had flexed out almost immediately upon release from the bindings, but the other four had flopped uselessly against the couch as they were released. Sweat had broken out again on Lucifer’s brow and back. 

“I need to call Cas in for the next part. Are you ready?” Again, Lucifer gave a single small nod of assent. 

When Sam left to find Castiel, Lucifer let out a shaky breath. He almost couldn't believe that Sam Winchester was being so… kind. It took him a moment to even think of the word. Since his fall, all Lucifer had known was anger, and pain, and hate. And fear. For millennia, he had sat alone in his cage, with nothing but his thoughts and memories to keep himself company. The last time anyone had touched him in a kind way or had treated him with anything other than derision and hate was before his fall.  
The monotony of his time in the cage was interrupted by the apocalypse fiasco several years earlier. A short trip topside, just long enough to give him a taste of freedom, only to be ripped away again when his vessel, when Sam, had overpowered him and thrown them both back in the cage. Lucifer knew that many of Sam’s memories of the cage were warped. Sam saw him as an evil, vengeful, torturous monster. And while that perception may be unfounded, it didn’t change the fact that that was Sam’s reality, and Lucifer could not contemplate how the hunter could be, of all things, kind to him. 

In truth, Sam’s time in the cage hadn’t been what anyone would call “pleasant” but it had been nothing like Sam remembered. Lucifer didn’t know why Sam’s memories were altered, he thought that Death had had a hand in the altered memories. At first, Lucifer had been very angry. He’d thrown Sam around a little but hadn’t really hurt him. And over time that residual anger had given way to dull acceptance and despair. The Devil had shut down; he had relegated himself to a corner of the cage and didn’t move or talk much, resigned to his fate and trapped in his memories. And Sam, the bleeding heart that he was, couldn’t leave Lucifer for very long in that state. He had eventually befriended the Devil. They’d talked, shared memories. And little by little, Lucifer had opened up to the hunter. They’d had, if not friendship, then at least a friendly camaraderie. Two souls trapped together in the worst place in all of Creation. But then Sam had been raised from the cage and Lucifer had been left alone once again. Michael had long since lost his mind to the madness of the cage. 

Now, he was topside again. He winced to himself when he thought about his and Sam’s reunion not too long ago. He had been upset, and not that he would admit it out loud, but hurt. Sam had only looked at him with fear and contempt, the same emotions from before their time in the cage together. It had cut a deep wound in Lucifer’s soul and to his regret, he’d acted out. All his life had seemed to be one bad decision after another; the way he treated the Winchester’s and Castiel upon his release from the cage just another bad decision on top of many others. But then he had been grabbed by the Darkness. His breathing picked up slightly and he could feel the rising panic attack. Lucifer shook his head and took some deep breaths to regain control. He wouldn’t think about his time with the Darkness. He couldn’t. 

Sam walked back into the room with Castiel and both stopped at the doorway and watched Lucifer for a moment. His brow was furrowed and he was taking deep breaths. They continued forward, and broke the archangel out of his trance. 

“Hey, Cas is here to help with your wings,” Sam said, walking to Lucifer’s side. 

Castiel approached Lucifer’s back. “Brother, I need to see what damage has been done before we can proceed.”

After Lucifer gave a stiff nod, Castiel got to work. He felt around the joints where the wings attached to the archangels back and along the bones of each wing. “I am unfamiliar with archangel wings. Do the secondary wings attach the same way as the main pair? And do they all have similar anatomy?”

Lucifer answered softly, “yes. They work the same as yours.”

Turning to Sam, Castiel gave his report. “Hmmmm, in that case it appears that the top two are fine besides some minor surface wounds. The main right wing is dislocated and the left is broken along the second bone. Both of the bottom wings are dislocated as well and have significant damage close to his back. I can set the dislocations and bind the broken wing, but it will be painful.”

Sam took a deep breath and said, “okay, just let me know what I can do to help.”

Castiel stood and went to crouch in front of Lucifer, who had remained quiet throughout the process. He was sweating again and breathing heavily, but appeared in control. “I will need you to lie on your stomach.”

Lucifer gazed warily at Castiel for a moment and then attempted to get up. Sam caught his arm and helped lower him to the ground once they reached an area wide enough to accommodate the large wings. The archangel laid down and buried his head in his arms. 

Castiel instructed Sam to hold Lucifer down so that he could gain enough leverage to shift the lower right wing back into place. But, as soon as Sam touched the archangel, he threw himself to the side and whined loudly. It sounded like an animal in pain and Sam was knocked back as one of Lucifer’s wings hit him square in the chest. Castiel jumped on Lucifer’s back and pressed his knee in between his wings, holding the archangel down. Lucifer stilled as Castiel gripped the base of his neck and pressed down. 

Sam groaned and slowly rose to his feet. He shook his head and warily approached the two angels. “If he keeps freaking out like this we won’t ever get these set.”

A very quite, “I’m sorry,” came from under Castiel and the hunter and the angel both turned to Lucifer. “When you touched my back it… it brought back some bad memories…” He trailed off and Sam looked from Lucifer back up to Castiel. Sam had a sick feeling he knew what kinds of memories they were. 

“Alright Cas, get off of him. We’re just going to have to think of something else.”

Slowly, Castiel stood up and leaned down to help Lucifer into a sitting position. “What do you suggest Sam?”

The hunter thought for a moment. Suddenly, he looked distinctly uncomfortable and said, “well, there’s one thing we could try. If I sit on the floor with him, he can lean against me and I’ll hold him so you can pop the wings back.”

Both turned to look at the archangel sitting on the ground to see his reaction. He was staring at the floor but upon noticing the silence in the room, he looked up. Lucifer started at Sam for a long moment before finally nodding his head.

Sam sat himself on the ground in front of Lucifer and situated them so that Lucifer leaned against Sam’s chest. His arms were in front of him, lightly resting on Sam’s shirt. Sam’s legs were around either side of the Devil and he had wrapped his arms around Lucifer’s shoulders and locked his arms along his back. Castiel took his belt and gave it to Lucifer to bite.

Castiel asked “Are you both ready?”

Sam tightened his grip around Lucifer and nodded to Castiel. “I’m starting with the main right dislocation.”

As Castiel pulled out Lucifer’s wing, the archangel started panting harder and let out a moan so quiet, Sam almost missed it. Suddenly, Castiel pulled the wing with a tremendous amount of force and snapped it back into place with a loud pop. Sam started not at the sound but at the devil’s reaction. Lucifer had pressed his face tightly against the side of Sam’s neck and had grabbed his shirt in a vice grip. As Castiel moved onto the lower two wings, Lucifer presses his face harder into the side of the hunter’s neck and Sam could feel the dampness of tears staining the collar of his shirt. 

Castiel worked quickly and efficiently and before long, all the wings were back in place and the broken wing bound tightly in a splint. Throughout the process, Lucifer’s tears stained Sam’s shirt and his hands gripped the fabric at his chest tightly. When Castiel stood up and declared that he was done, they both realized that Lucifer had finally passed out in Sam’s arms. Sam stared down at Lucifer’s head and felt the strangest sense of sympathy for the Devil.

**Author's Note:**

> And that’s where I’ll end it. As I said, I may or may not continue this on my own at some point but for now, if any of you want to take it somewhere, please let me know. Thanks for reading!


End file.
